What Happened?
by TartanPhoenix
Summary: Complete. One day, Minerva simply disappeared. What could have caused her to run, and will she ever come back? It is better than the summary I promise.
1. Chapter 1

"That old goat!" The portrait slammed shut behind Thomas Greenly as he stalked across the Gryffindor common room, flinging himself down in front of the fire. "I can't believe it. Twenty points, twenty points! I wasn't actually doing anything, and I lose twenty points for 'not making productive use of my time'. I'm telling you, Dumbledore has finally lost it."

"And you just lost another ten for speaking ill of the Headmaster," said seventh year prefect Jonathan Duncan as he walked past. "First years, it never changes! They open their mouths before they think, and talk about things they don't understand," he grumbled to his friends.

Thomas was still staring after him with his mouth hanging open, rage written plainly on his face. "Then perhaps you would care to explain it to me," he ground out. By this time the entire common room was silent. Thomas had unintentionally managed to ask the one question that every student in the room had asked themselves but never voiced aloud.

"Don't be thick Greenly. I know you've heard the stories. You don't think Dumbledore's always been like this, do you? The eccentric, fun loving headmaster that ate more sweets than most his students. Didn't you ever bother to look around and wonder why?" He moved farther into the room, taking the chair directly across from Thomas, never noticing the circle of students that followed him. He leaned forward, the fire light illuminating his features, shadows obscuring everything but his eyes, which held an intensity that sent shivers though the young first year.

"It all began during my first year. Professor Travers wasn't always the Transfiguration professor, if you can actually call him a professor. It used to be held by our head of house, Professor McGonagall. She was strict, but fair, with a serious pension for Quidditch. No one really knows what happened, but my best guess is that she's at the heart of everything. It was the middle of March; one day she was in the castle teaching, the next morning she was gone. That, Greenly, is the day everything changed. That is the day that the man who was Albus Dumbledore died."


	2. Chapter 2

Albus moved silently into their sitting room, his sitting room he amended, letting the portrait of the Scottish highlands swing shut behind him. In the ten steps it had taken him to cross the room, his hat, boots, and now black outer robes had fallen to the floor before he slumped onto the small love seat before the fire.

It would have broken even the most jaded of hearts to watch the once great wizard reach for the now ever present bottle of fire whisky. He poured himself a glass, and knocked it back without a second thought and a grimace. He never had gotten used to the burn it created, but it was the one thing that allowed him to do what he craved most; to stop thinking. A sigh escaped his lips as his head lulled to the right, coming to rest along the edge of the love seat. The next part of his nightly ritual gave cause for the first. His now dull blue eyes fell upon the one lone remnant of his former life.

It was a photograph of their fifth wedding anniversary. It was a muggle photo, she had even fled from the many moving photographs that once littered the walls. She was smiling at him as he playfully kissed the back of her hand, and the look she had in her eyes still sent shivers down his spine. It was the look he had taken for granted as his, that was until it was gone.

He shook himself from that line of thought as a log in the hearth cracked, and on instinct his hand refilled his empty glass. Even after all these years he still didn't understand what went wrong. One day he returned from another pointless meeting with Cornelius, and she had simply vanished with only a letter of resignation and that photograph in her wake.

He spent every waking moment for the first month looking for her, calling in every favor owed him, but still he came up empty. He did, however, at least have the peace of mind of knowing she was well. He had sent dozens of letters with Fawkes in an attempt to bring her back, but his familiar had apparently turned traitor. He would always return without his letters, but he always refused to take Albus to her.

In the six years since she had left him, Albus knew he was a changed man. He had aged more than should be possible, and the things that once brought laughter into his life now meant nothing. Just that morning he had taken twenty points from a student for no reason; the poor boy had been merely talking with another student. He knew the other professors were worried about him, and that only made it worse. Speculation ran rampant though the staff room, but none of them knew. They only saw their once revered friend and colleague slip farther and farther from himself.

Both of them had always known about the rumors of their mutually denied love, and neither had done anything to discourage them. It had provided a perfect cover and several laughs over their occasional chess games. He continued to allow his staff to believe that it was unrequited love that plagued him, specially since even he couldn't offer a better explanation.

Slowly he fell into a routine of work and quiet evenings alone. His presence at the ministry was sporadic, but even rarer were his appearances in the Great Hall for dinner. His entire day now revolved around this very moment; when he could drown his sorrows and fall into a world where none of it existed, and they were still happy. He let his eyelids fall shut as his hand came up to rub his temple. His head had been pounding for almost a week now, and he had never felt so tired. He let the glass fall to the end table as he drifted off to sleep, his mind filling with the one day in his life he wanted most to forget.


	3. Chapter 3

Minerva stretched leisurely before turning over and snuggling deeper into the rumpled sheets, trying to hold onto the rather vivid dream she had been having. The sun was just beginning to peek through the gap in the heavy burgundy drapes that covered the far wall of their chambers, announcing the beginning of another day, Monday to be precise.

Minerva groaned and buried her face deeper into the pillow, pulling the blankets closer around her. She may love her job, but ever since her school days she had hated Mondays with a passion, and the last thing she wanted to do was deal with inattentive children. There was just something about that first weekday that set her teeth on edge. Lazily, she stretched an arm out, expecting to land on a warm body, but instead she found cooled sheets and a discarded nightshirt.

"And it just keeps getting better," she thought wryly as her hand slid upward toward the pillow. Her slender fingers wrapped around a piece of parchment, and for the first time that morning her eyes opened as the usually graceful woman flopped on her back.

_Good morning love,_

_As you have probably guessed, Cornelius has owled me for another meeting this morning, and if you're reading this, than I have yet to return. I regret that I couldn't be there to welcome another glorious morning with you properly, but it would seem our dear Minister is determined not to have an original thought, and you are just to beautiful as you sleep to wake for a goodbye. Perhaps if I informed Cornelius of just what I have to leave he would be less inclined to call. I will return as soon as I can, but in the mean time, just try to avoid Severus until you have had at least your morning coffee. I would prefer not to have to spend my afternoon trying to transfigure him back like last week. Although, I will admit he did make a fine penguin. So, until I see you again, I am now and forever,_

_Yours,_

_A. _

A smile flitted across Minerva's face as she remembered Severus screeching as he waddled down the corridor. He knew better than to aggravate her before breakfast, and he still was having trouble staying away from the fish during meals. The smile faded as she thought back to Albus. Despite the humor of his note, she knew the constant summons on his time from so many people bothered him. There had been more than one evening ruined because the Minister, or the Wizengamot had required his attention. He was a great man to be sure, the best she had ever known, but a man never the less, and it seemed that most of their world had forgotten that simple fact. The small brass clock on the night table, a gift from her parents for Albus' last birthday, told her she still had an hour before she needed to be up, so, pulling the stray nightshirt close, she inhaled that unique mix of lemon and spice that was her husband and drifted back to sleep, the man she adored filling her dreams. It would only be a few short hours before she truly had a reason to hate Mondays.


	4. Chapter 4

Hogwarts had always been confusing, even for those who spent their lives within it, but for most first year students navigating its vast corridors was nothing short of a nightmare. This was again the case as Jonathan Duncan made a wrong turn on his way to Transfiguration that morning, ending up in the abandoned classroom next door. It was well known that the first class on Monday's was not one to be late for. With his eyes wide at the thought of having to face the stern professor and explain his tardiness, Jonathan slipped through the door and turned to shut it quietly behind him. Taking a deep breath, hoping he looked braver than he felt, he turned around.

His heart stopped and a silent scream came from his parted lips as he came face to face with the largest rat he could imagine. The beast could have rivaled a house cat in size, and it sat atop an empty cabinet, his jaws opening and snapping shut as its beady eyes stared down at him. As the light from the walls torches danced off the creatures fangs Jonathan found his voice, and his screams echoed off the walls as he ran though the door and back to his dormitory. Of course he never saw the rat shift into something indefinable and find its way back into the open desk drawer a few feet away. He never knew that the not so simple rat would be the cause of so much misery.

Everything had been going so well. Minerva had managed to have two full cups of coffee before Severus even appeared for breakfast that morning, and her forth year students were actually progressing ahead of her expectations, so she had been kind enough to let them out of homework for the day. She couldn't remember the last time she had been so popular. She should have known better than to think it would last.

It was only five minutes into her final class before lunch. She had managed to put the sixth year Gryffindors with Hufflepuffs this year, so the number of spontaneous duels had decreased, and the quality of their work also seemed to improve. Minerva looked around the room once more, watching the students diligently copy down the notes from the board before making her way back to the desk in the front of the room. She smiled, running her fingers lightly across the top. It was the same desk Albus had used when he was her professor. She remembered the cause for every nick and ding in the deep cherry wood, and she wouldn't change a thing, even if she could. Her fingers came to rest against a faded scorch mark along the edge and she couldn't help the small giggle the memory brought up, even if it did earn her a few stray looks. It had been their first kiss.

She had returned to the school five years after graduation to finish work for her Transfiguration mistress title, and Albus had been gracious enough to offer himself as a mentor. She had always been his favorite student, and it didn't take long for them to fall back into their habit of easy chatter and playful barbs. It took even less time, within the span of their first breaths, for the undeniable fire to engulf them again. It had been hard to ignore the butterflies and tension in those last months of her schooling, but nothing could have come of it then, and each assumed nothing ever would. Minerva had never been so happy to be wrong.

He had been correcting essays on that very desk one evening and had again missed dinner. Knowing how wrapped up he could become, Minerva grabbed a candle and a plate of turkey sandwiches and headed for the classroom. "Albus, you need to eat," she chided gently when she found him. He looked up from his stack of papers and smiled, a small smear of red ink on the tip of his nose.

"I suppose so my dear, but only if you agree to join me." She perched herself on the edge of his desk and pushed the plate in his direction. "I suppose that could be arranged."

They talked about everything but work; it was never hard for them to find a topic and their debates were already becoming things of legend among the staff. They had just moved onto MacBeth when the classroom door burst open and a tidal wave flew at them accompanied by a very distinctive cackle. Reacting completely on instinct Albus had wrapped himself around Minerva, trying to protect her against the onslaught. Dripping wet, Albus looked more like a wet cat than a great wizard. "I really must speak to the Bloody Baron in the morning," he muttered. It wasn't until Minerva's breath hitched that he looked down and felt his heartbeat double.

Their faces were scant centimeters apart. He could feel her warm breath along his neck, and he was very much aware of everyplace that their bodies touched. They never could agree on just who made the first move, but in the end, does it really matter. Their lips met in a ferocious kiss that stoked the always present fire whenever they were together. They became so wrapped up in the feeling of the other that neither noticed when the still lit candle tipped over, catching the essays on fire. They jumped apart as a flame licked Minerva's back, and by the time the flames had been extinguished, they were both doubled over with laughter and his essays beyond repair.

Minerva was rudely brought back to the present when, again, the door burst open. Instead of water this time, however, a dozen dung bombs flew through the air and landed square in the middle of the class. Before she even had a chance to react, the students were stampeding for the nearest exit and she was forced to follow them out into the corridor. Slamming the door behind her, even the gagging students backed away at the look of sheer murder on her face. "PEEVES! I swear you had better hope I don't run into the Bloody Baron. Of the all irresponsible, ridiculous,.." she would have gone on, but the poltergeist simply stuck out his tongue and dropped through the floor.

She turned back to her students, all of whom were looking at her as if she had grown not only a second head but horns as well. "Class dismissed; I want a foot essay on the precautions taken during human transformations. Pay special attention to the cases presented in your text." With that last word the students scattered to the four winds, and Minerva was left standing alone in the corridor. She knew it would take Argus all day to clear out her room, and she still had one more class after lunch. Luckily, there was a spare room next door that was used for storage now. It would take some quick work, but although she couldn't remember a time the room had ever been used, it would have to do. Pulling out her wand, and expecting to work through lunch, Minerva pushed open the creaking door and came face to face with none other than Albus Dumbledore.


	5. Chapter 5

Albus was home. In the span of a single second, the temperature within the room had risen to be almost intolerable, the air had thinned, and Minerva loved it all. Never taking her eyes off of the man standing before her, Minerva quietly closed and locked the door, almost afraid that any noise would destroy the moment and he would again disappear.

Through it all Albus was just standing there. To her delight, he had worn the set of midnight blue robes she had gotten him for Christmas the last year and he looked as impressive in them as ever. The color brought out his eyes and made them shine an even more violent shade of blue, if that was even possible and the light silver work around the hems glittered in the soft light. The torches lining the wall cast shadows against his face, obscuring everything but those magnificent eyes. They hadn't left her since she had entered, and Minerva could feel the blush rise along her neck even after all their years together. There were many things that he could be called; flatterer, seducer, but most importantly, he was hers.

With a seductive smile and her heart pounding in anticipation, Minerva stepped away from the cold wall and reached for him. "Well Headmaster, this is a surprise. I didn't expect to see you back so soon. I take it your meeting with the Minister went well." All while she was talking, Minerva had run her fingers down the front of his robes, undoing the buttons that she encountered before sliding her hands inside taking pleasure in the heat and smooth texture of the skin beneath her fingers.

"Yes, the meeting was very..productive." He looked down into her eyes and smirked, letting a single finger trail a lazy pattern down her back before coming to rest against her behind. This caught Minerva off guard. If there was one thing Minerva had never seen him do before, it was smirk. He always said Severus did enough of it for the entire staff.

"Albus," she said quietly, slightly concerned at his odd behavior. Something was out of place, but she couldn't understand what. She let her gentle hands slide up his chest, on their way to his cheek, but they stopped when she felt something damp just on the inside of his collar. Brushing against it, her fingers came away and the momentary confusion she felt slowly gave way to disbelieving horror. Her fingers were coated in lipstick, bright red, certainly not her shade, slipstick. Her eyes snapped up to meet his, waiting with every hope in her soul for an explanation, but his smirk had simply changed into a lascivious grin. She could see it in his every expression, glee. He had been caught, and instead of being embarrassed or ashamed, he was happy.

Cold dread washed over her as the air suddenly disappeared from the room, leaving her panting and lightheaded. "As I said, most productive." He stared at her, the once loving and gentle gaze turning cold and..triumphant?

"But..what..where? Albus, I." she didn't finish, not knowing what to say. "My my," he sneered, "Minerva McGonagall at a loss for words. I must write the Prophet; this is certainly newsworthy. Really Minerva, I don't know what you expected. Really, have you looked in a mirror lately?"

"But the meeting, Cornelius." Her thoughts were disjointed. She just couldn't get her mind to wrap around what was happening. The man who, just that morning, had declared his love was now shattering the world they had created without a second thought.

"Yes, the meeting. There is just so much to be discussed with twenty five year old blond receptionists when one has the time. I never knew they could be quite so talented." He drew out the last word and let a sound that could pass as a laugh escape.

Minerva had backed away from him, her emerald eyes large behind her square spectacles and beginning to fill with tears. "How, how could you," she choked out, her voice failing her. "I loved you more than anything."

He snorted and waved away her declaration like an especially annoying insect. "Simple my dear. I found someone better." He reached into the left pocket of his robes, and it was then that she noticed he wasn't wearing his wedding band. Early in their relationship the rings had been charmed to appear whenever they managed to be alone, but, this time, his was nowhere to be seen. If she could have thought rationally, she would have realized hers hadn't appeared either.

He pulled out his watch and looked at it briefly before stowing it back in his robes. "I've invited her to the castle. She's going to be my new personal secretary. As I said, she was quite talented." He paused for a moment. "I hope that won't be a problem."

Minerva recoiled as if she had been slapped. Not only was he having an affair, now he wanted to bring the harlot into her school. Minerva began to shake as her temper began to take hold. "If you think," she said, her voice deathly quiet, "that I'm going to stand here and let some strumpet anywhere near you or the children, then you are gravely mistaken."

He simply considered her over the top of his half moon spectacles, the torch light making his hair glow. "Alright," he said calmly, "I would like your resignation on my desk by the end of the day, preferably before I get back to my office. We wouldn't want you to have to stand anywhere, now would we?"

Minerva stood stunned, her mouth hanging open. She had to leave; she had to leave Hogwarts. It was the only place she had ever truly called home, and now she was being forced out. She couldn't understand just what had happened. In the span of ten minutes, she had lost not only her husband and job, but her home. She had lost everything. It just became too much. So, she did the only thing that came to mind; she ran. She slammed the door on his maniacal laughter. She ran through the corridors, ignoring the surprised and concerned looks from students. She ran up every flight of stairs and didn't stop until she came to their chambers. Flinging herself into the sitting room, Minerva finally stopped, her chest heaving from the exertion.

She stood in the middle of the comfortable room, numbly taking in her surroundings. She stared at the pictures of the two of them. She saw a pair of his shoes beneath the chair, and his cup of hot chocolate from the evening before sat cold on the coffee table. In an instant, it was simply too much. With a renewed determination, she moved to their desk and pulled out a fresh piece of parchment. As she wrote, only a single tear made its way down her nose and landed with a splatter just next to her signature. "Winky," she called, and a grey house elf with large green eyes and a tuft of white hair sticking up from his head appeared with a faint pop. "Winky, could you please leave this on the Headmaster's desk for me?" "Yes Professor. Winky is happy to help Professor."

With another pop the elf was gone, and Minerva was alone. Waving her wand, several oversized trunks appeared, and she stood bye as all her possessions flew from every room and folded themselves neatly. It only took her five minutes to pack fifteen years worth memories.

During all of this she had forgotten about someone very important, Fawkes. It wasn't until he let out a manic screech, causing her to jump, that she even remembered the bird was there. She walked over and stroked Fawkes head softly, taking comfort in his warmth and soft plumage. "Oh Fawkes, I'm going to miss you my friend. Apparently, I'm not enough for him anymore. Take care of him Fawkes, and you will always have an extra stand in my sitting room if you decide to visit." The phoenix rubbed against her hand once more before trilling out one of the saddest songs she had ever heard. Taking only what was hers and leaving every memento behind, Minerva shrank her trunks and placed them in her pockets. With a single look back at what had meant so much to her, Minerva walked out of the castle and disappeared.


	6. Chapter 6

Poppy sighed as she pulled the heavy infirmary blanket up just a bit higher along his thin sleeping form. It had taken almost four hours, but every injury, every malady had been corrected, and, for the first time in what she assumed was an eternity if the dark circles under his eyes were any indication, he was sleeping peacefully. Poppy watched the shallow but steady rise and fall of his chest as the firelight played across his face, casting shadows that seemed to match his mood so exactly. She reached out and brushed aside a small lock of snow white hair from his weathered face that now showed every one of his years, smiled in a motherly fashion, before leaning forward and placing a gentle kiss against his forehead. He would sleep through what remained of the night and most of the next morning, she had made sure of that, and now she had other business that required her full attention. "Sleep well Albus," she whispered, extinguishing the lamps surrounding his bed before turning and heading into her office.

Closing the door quietly behind her, Poppy let out a frustrated growl. It had been six years, and while she knew he had been suffering, she had never imaged it to be quite like this. She sat back and watched as the twinkle in his eyes diminished before disappearing all together. She sat back while he pulled away from his friends and colleagues. She even sat by and watched him pull away from the students. But, she couldn't sit back anymore. Simply, Albus was like a father to her. He had been there for her when her own family had been murdered during the war with Grindelwald. That madman also seemed to have a fascination with pureblood, and her family had the misfortune to be muggles.

He had offered her a sympathetic ear and a dry shoulder, but he wouldn't allow her to wallow in self pity. "Life is meant to be lived Poppy," he had said. "You shouldn't squander it on what should have been." Poppy let out an unlady like snort. 'Seems to have forgotten,' she thought. This thought did nothing to help her already frayed nerves. There was nothing she wanted to do more than to forgo procedure, and to hell with decency, but she knew she couldn't. There was still one more duty she had to perform before she could retire for the evening, and she wanted none of it.

Resolved but weary, she sat down behind her practical maple desk and reached for a fresh piece of parchment. It was a letter that had to be written, but that didn't mean she had to be gentle. No, they never said that during healer training. Letting all of her anger swell and crash within her, Poppy began to write.

The sky was a grey that no word could adequately describe, and the smell of salt sat heavy in the air as waves crashed against the jagged rocks below. 'Another wonderful day,' Minerva thought bitterly, looking out the small window of her two story cottage. Sighing, she placed the last of the plates in its cabinet before closing the door and walking into her library. The last six years had been difficult for the witch, and it showed. New lines decorated her face, her once proud shoulders were perpetually slumped, and her once raven black hair was now lightly streaked with white. But, it was the constant and never ending numbness that consumed her that did the most damage. 'Just like the Tin Man,' she mused, fingering the worn spine of her favorite copy of the muggle novel. 'Only the wizard took the heart back.' No tears came as she thought of the wizard who had first stolen then destroyed her heart. They had been shed long ago, but the insuppressible ache still existed.

Sighing, she dropped the book back on the small end table and got up, heading to the desk facing the wall. She needed to start the next chapter of her textbook soon if she was going to meet her deadline. The sixth years text was almost complete; she only had to finish the various human transformations before it could be sent to the publisher for a final review. It was still teaching, she reasoned with herself, in its own way. Even if she could never step into a classroom that wasn't settled in a remote part of Scotland, at least she could still help her students. She couldn't fail them as well. She worked through the morning, never taking notice of the changing sky, or the birds making their homes in her eves.

It wasn't until well after lunch that she was unpleasantly interrupted. A quick burst of flame erupted in front of her, setting the edge of her notes alight. Fawkes cooed his apology as she hurried to extinguish the flames. "Hello Fawkes," she said, reaching into her desk for the bag of treats she kept specifically for him. "You have another letter for me hmm," she said, putting the treats on the desk. She was surprised when he simply stared at her and held out his leg. His beady eyes seemed intent and penetrating, much like his masters. "Why does he insist," she asked mostly to herself, "isn't all this enough?" Once a week, usually a Wednesday, every week since she had left, Fawkes would appear with a letter from him. She had read the first, but his single question of why had ended the practice. Now, she simply put them in the chest in her attic, unopened, but never forgotten. There had also been letters from the other staff, but those too had joined the pile. Trying to explain would have hurt too much.

Minerva was snapped out of her thoughts when she realized that Fawkes was still there. "He's probably missing you my friend. You should head home before he starts to worry." To her surprise, the phoenix seemed to actually shake his head and point with his head to the letter. Looking down, Minerva saw not Albus' loopy writing, but the practical scrawl that could only come from Poppy. For a reason that seemed to hover just out of reach, Minerva's heart stopped before it began to pound behind her ribs. Perhaps it wasn't the letter itself that caused such a reaction, but the way it was addressed, Mrs. Minerva Dumbledore. Her hands began to shake as she turned over the envelope, breaking the seal. Her eyes grew larger and her breath hitched as her eyes traveled over the parchment.

_Mrs. Dumbledore,_

_It is my duty to inform you that your husband, Albus Dumbledore, was admitted to the hospital wing of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry at 10:45 last evening. His condition is now stable, but, should you actually care, the damage was extensive._

_I have been assured that you will receive this missive, but if you actually read it or not, I can only guess. I, like everyone else, don't know the reasons for your departure, and at this time, I don't care. The only thing that matters at this moment is the man sleeping in my ward, and the fact that he was so delirious with fever that he spent an hour calling your name into the darkness. I can only conclude that, for some unfathomable reason, he still loves you. I can only assume, like the others, that this letter will go unanswered, but I have done what I must. Now, I must return. Someone has to care for your husband._

_ Poppy Pomphrey_

_Mediwitch, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

Minerva sat, frozen, in her chair. Albus had been hurt, and if Poppy had sent out a notification, it would have had to be serious. A part of Minerva had to admit she was surprised by the harsh tone of Poppy's words. They had been good friends , and she of all people should have understood why she needed to leave when Albus began prancing around like the playboy of the western world with his new secretary. 'What could he have told them when I left,' she wondered to herself. Her eyes darted up, along with her temper, and came face to face with the waiting phoenix. "What has been going on Fawkes?" Her voice was low and her eyes burned with a fire that made the bird envious. He simply crooked his head to the side and let out a small squawk before turning his back to her. To Minerva's eternal surprise he began to shake his tail feathers in her face, his red plumage obscuring everything else.

For six years she had hidden herself away, run like a scared child. The time for running was over. If he wanted a confrontation, then she would give him one. Before she could change her mind, Minerva summoned her cloak, pocketed her wand, and grabbed a hold of Fawkes tail. It was time to return to Hogwarts.


	7. Chapter 7

Fawkes' method of travel, while expedient, had never truly sat well with Minerva, and today was no exception. With a brilliant flash of red, the two appeared just outside the main doors of Hogwarts. Unlike her cottage, the skies around the school were a brilliant blue, dotted occasionally with a bright white fluffy cloud. The air was crisp but not cold, and a light breeze carried the falling leaves through the air. They rustled as they passed by, on their way toward the forest.

Minerva released her death grip of Fawkes' tail as a wave of nausea washed over her. Perhaps it was the heat that he radiated, but Minerva suddenly remembered exactly why she always insisted on apparating separately when Fawkes was needed. Another gust came up and wrapped around her as she leaned against the cool stones of the ancient castle, willing her stomach to relax. She took an odd comfort in the slight roughness beneath her cheek and the cold that seeped into her. It was still the same. Despite everything that had happened, Hogwarts still stood, silent and proud. It had stood for a millennium before she arrived, and, gods willing, it would stand long after she was gone. That irrefutable fact brought a comfort to her troubled mind.

Minerva pushed herself upright again, taking a deep breath, and another, before straightening her shoulders. "Wish me luck Fawkes," she said, stroking his head gently. He butted her hand once before disappearing in another flash. Minerva let her hand reach out and run slowly along the giant oak doors. Even after all these years she could still feel the overpowering hum that reverberated in the very foundations. As it pulsed through her again, she knew it. She was home. Before her courage failed her, Minerva pushed on the heavy doors and did her best to slip through unnoticed. Unfortunately for her, she had forgotten to check the time, and she entered just as students were changing classes.

Immediately, she was surrounded by hundreds of chatting and laughing students, most of whom didn't even seem to realize she was there. She simply stood for a moment and watched. Flashes of red or silver caught her eye in the sea of black robes. She watched as a group of girls stood in a corner, exclaiming over the newest article in Witches Weekly. No doubt there was a new quiz to determine just who would ask them to the winter ball or something just as trivial, but she smiled anyway. Boys walked together, trying to outdo each other in the alphabet belching games. She was equally pleased and disturbed that it appeared to be a Gryffindor that won the honor, making it all the way to T before he ran out of steam.

She soon realized, much to her displeasure, that she must of been standing there far longer than necessary when she spotted two students watching her from across the corridor. They both had to be at least sixth years by their height, but given how they were staring, she would hazard seventh years instead. One of them looked somewhat familiar. He was taller certainly, and had grown up to be quite handsome, but Minerva was sure she could still see a small Aries Borden staring back from behind his transfiguration essay. He had been hopeless then. 'I wonder if he's improved?' she wondered.

Minerva was about to follow the wall to avoid the crowds in a last ditch effort, but she had stayed too long. The two students were headed directly toward her. There was no hesitation, no awkwardness when the two boys stopped directly before her, coming eye to eye for the first time. "Professor McGonagall?" the taller of the two spoke, the slight question in his voice belaying the confidence her projected.

"Mr. Borden," she replied, lifting her eyebrow ever so slightly. She watched in silent amusement as his back straightened ever so slightly. She still had it. In a move that surprised them both, he reached out and wrapped her in a tight hug before pulling back as if slapped. A bright red flush worked its way up his face and into his red hair. "It's good to see you too Aries," she said quietly, trying to suppress a blush of her own.

"Jake and I thought it was you when came in Professor. Are you here to stay?" It had all come out in a rush, and Aries never looked up from his shoes until he had fallen quiet.

"No Mr. Borden, I am not. I will be leaving as soon as my business in the castle in completed. Surely, considering the amount of grumbling I heard after my lessons about the workload, you wouldn't be so edger for me to return." Minerva had said the last with a slight smile, trying to lift the heavy atmosphere, but failed spectacularly when Aries and Jake exchanged dark looks before nodding. Deciding it was a question best left unasked, Minerva excused herself and strode directly into the gathering students.

This seemed to startle the group that had formed to watch as they took notice of the new arrival. "Your next classes will beginning soon. It would be best not to be late," she said, slipping naturally back into the stern professor she had always been. Several younger students jumped and scurried away. True to her words, she hadn't gone ten steps before the bell sounded, and a stampede began.

Minerva's steps also increased. Her arrival would be announced to every professor before long, and she wanted nothing more than to be back home before they had a chance to investigate themselves. It would lead to far too many questions. With the students gone, the rest of Minerva's trek through the corridors was eerily silent. The precise click of her heels along the flagstones were the only companion to her thoughts. She nodded to the portraits as she walked by, trying to ignore the looks of surprise, shock, and, oddly enough, contempt, that they displayed. She took notice of the small changes in the halls. A tapestry had moved outside the prefects bathroom, and the Lady of Shallot had moved from the Astronomy Tower. 'You can do this. It's only a quick visit. You see that he's alright, you check that he's not going to die, and then you let him have it!'

Her thoughts traveled along with her feet. Each new thought ended with him begging forgiveness before she left him there and returned back to the cottage. 'How can it be possible to love and loathe someone at the same time?' She never got the chance to answer herself; her feet had stopped moving, and she found herself in front of a familiar door. Pushing it open, Minerva took in the pristine infirmary. Beds still lined the wall, and the windows still caught the perfect amount of morning light.

Taking a quick look around, Minerva let out a relieved sigh when she didn't notice Poppy. Friend or not, Poppy was protective of her patients, and she certainly wouldn't appreciate Minerva screaming at one in her infirmary. Minerva couldn't help but shudder. The students always thought she was the one not to cross, but none of them had ever seen Poppy truly mad. It had taken three weeks for the school nurse to sort out Angela Duncan. The idiot girl had made the mistake of insulting Poppy's parents during their sixth year. Poppy had been lucky not to be expelled, but once they found Angela's arms it was all but forgotten.

Closing the door as quietly as possible, Minerva slipped through the curtains in the back that separated the student and faculty wards. For only the second time in her life, Minerva came up short. He was still laying in bed asleep, but Minerva couldn't reconcile the man she had left with the one before her. His hair was shorter as well as his beard, but it was the chalk white skin and black circles that surprised her more. He was far too thin, and his hands that were capable of so much sat limply at his side. He looked the very picture of an old man, and despite herself, she was frightened for him.

Wrapping her arms around herself, Minerva stepped closer, coming to a stop beside him. "What have you done Albus?" she asked quietly. "Why do you do this? You send me away, and then call me back again? I am not your whore, to be at your beck and call." She let out a shuttering breath, "I'm not even your wife anymore, except on parchment. Why can't you leave me be?" Her voice had never risen above a whisper, but when she was through, her voice was raw from the emotion of it.


	8. Chapter 8

Minerva didn't know how long she had stood there, simply watching him sleep, but it didn't really matter. He was still firmly in Morpheus' grasp, his chest rising and falling slowly. She watched as his eyes darted quickly beneath his eyelids, and every so often his lips would move. She watched, curious, as his face took on a pained expression and his hand flexed, reaching for something or someone before falling limp again. It took another moment for his face to relax, and soon he was quiet again. 'He always was a restless sleeper,' she thought.

Her ears perked up as she heard a slight rustle from just beyond the curtain, and her back straightened as he entire body tensed in preparation. She would know exactly who was on the other side even if she couldn't smell Poppy's perfume. She still smelled of vanilla. Minerva didn't bother to turn around, didn't utter a sound as the screen was pulled away, revealing her to the other woman.

Poppy had come up short when she had found the strange woman just standing over Albus. She was simply standing there, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She didn't turn around, and, even though she seemed familiar somehow, Poppy just couldn't place her. Coming back to her senses, Poppy bristled as she walked into the small room. "Excuse me? The headmaster isn't up for visitors. I don't know how you got in here, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave. This is a closed ward." In the deafening silence that followed, Poppy had expected the stranger to turn around and leave or at least argue, but remained silent and unmoving. By that point, Poppy was working herself up well to be furious. No one, no one, dared to disobey her in her ward. "It's time for you to be leaving," she ground out, letting her hand travel into her robes.

Her fingers had just wrapped around her wand when she received one of the greatest shocks of her life. "He looks older." It came out so quietly and matter of fact that, at first, Poppy didn't quite understand. Once the meaning of the words sunk in, it only took a heartbeat for the voice of the speaker to sink in as well. Without a second thought, or first for that matter, Poppy closed the small distance between them, and when Minerva finally turned weary eyes to the shorter woman, Poppy simply acted. The resounding crack was the only sound to be heard as Minerva's head snapped around, threatening to twist off completely. Her own hand came up to rub her now red, stinging cheek. She didn't say a word, but Poppy could easily read the surprise and hurt in Minerva's eyes.

"How dare you," Poppy hissed, "How dare you show your face here again. You leave, not a word to anyone, and just show up again as if nothing has happened? Why! Come back to see if you could get your old job back, or..his? Is that it! Did you assume he would just slip away and you could return. Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you Min, but he's going to be just fine." All through her tirade, Poppy had inched closer and closer into Minerva's personal space. She now she toe to toe with the taller woman, and Minerva could smell the coffee from breakfast on her breath. It took a shifting from the man in question to break the tension that had filled the room. Poppy glanced quickly to make sure he hadn't woken up, and then grabbed Minerva roughly by the upper arm, dragging her back through the curtain and into the main ward.

Minerva's mind was reeling. This is what her best friend thought of her? That she had come back to..gloat? Over what? She still didn't have a clue what had happened. She allowed herself to show only a moment of weakness as she all but flopped into the nearest chair before looking up again. "What was wrong with him Poppy?" The question caught the nurse off guard, she had expected a fight, a defense at least, but not this. The worry, not curiosity on Minerva's face made her answer. "What wasn't wrong? He had an ulcer, bronchitis, his blood pressure was through the roof, he's lost almost thirty pounds since his last physical, his fever spiked at almost 104, and, not that's it's surprising, but he had enough alcohol in his system to knock out a hippogriff."

Minerva had gone paler and paler with every word Poppy spat, but it was the last item on the list that caught her attention. "Alcohol? Albus doesn't drink."

Poppy actually snorted. "No, Albus never _used_ to drink. You of all people should know things change."

Minerva nodded. "They do, don't they? When will you release him?"

"I won't be." Poppy actually looked insulted by the question. "He's going to stay until I can be sure he won't go crawling back into his bottle."

"I see. Then I will leave you to your work Madam Pomfrey. I'll return later in the afternoon. He and I have a few things to discuss. Good day." Minerva turned as if she were about to leave, but Poppy reached out and put a restraining hand on her shoulder, whirling her around.

The smaller woman was actually pulsing with rage, her hazel eyes deepened to a menacing black. "Oh no you will not. You have no further business here, and I'll be damned if I'm letting you anywhere near him again. You've already caused him enough grief; I won't let you add to it." The venom in Poppy's voice was obvious, and it only served to anger Minerva more than her words ever could.

Reaching across, Minerva removed the other woman's hand from her shoulder with perhaps more force than necessary. Taking a step closer, she leaned down so that her lips were scant inches from Poppy's ear. "Since when, does taking a mistress make you the victim?" She straightened up again, looking Poppy directly in the eyes, taking little pleasure in the dazed, confused look she saw there. Taking a step back, Minerva paused before she turned back toward the door. "And Poppy, I forgave it once, I forgave it twice, but if you ever lay a hand on me again, there won't be enough pieces left to put you back together again."

Minerva strode across the hospital wing and reached for the door handle, but was given a rather nasty shock as she tried to leave. She whirled around, her wand already pointing at Poppy. "Let me out Poppy."

The woman simply stared at her as if seeing her for the first time. "You really don't know, do you? You truly don't have a clue."

"I know more than you seem to think, now let me out Poppy." The fight was slowly draining out of her, and Minerva was exhausted.

"He looked for you, you know. He spent every day for a month searching, and another six calling in favors left and right, looking for any sign." Poppy looked up from the seat Minerva had vacated. "You hurt him so much Minerva, but it took almost two years for him to stop looking."

Minerva couldn't believe her ears; Poppy was actually defending him. "I'm sure he was just devastated Poppy. I would imagine though that his little tramp found ample ways to console him."

This was the second time Minerva had mentioned another woman, and Poppy only became more confused. "Minerva, what are you talking about? There hasn't been anyone else. You know damn well I would have flayed him alive if there was."

Minerva shook her head. Apparently, Albus hadn't told them everything, not that she had expected him to. It would do for him to appear less then perfect. "I'm sorry to disappoint Poppy, but he told me all about his new secretary and her job description when he returned from the Ministry that day, if he had ever gone at all." By the time she choked out the last word, tears were beginning to form in the corners of her eyes. She had thought the time for tears had passed; apparently, she was wrong. "I was traded in for a new model Poppy," she whispered. "I was replaced and then removed. I lost it all Poppy, so don't lecture me about his pain. My only regret is that it couldn't have been more. Now, will you please let me go?"

Poppy didn't respond. Instead, she stood up and carefully made her way toward the shaking witch. She looked as if she were approaching a wild animal as she carefully raised her hand. Unlike before, the hand that rested on Minerva's shoulder was gentle, concerned. "Minerva," Poppy whispered, her brows knitting together, "What are you talking about? Albus didn't return from the Ministry until long after dinner, and he certainly didn't bring a secretary. There was no way he could have been in the castle. You were gone long before he ever returned."

Minerva shook her head. She couldn't believe what Poppy was saying. She had seen him, felt him. "He was there Poppy. Peeves had made a mess, and I was going to use the empty classroom next door, and he was there." Minerva had never told anyone about that day, and once she started, she just couldn't stop. "He meant everything to me Poppy; everything and he just threw me aside. I don't know what he's told you, but don't waste your sympathy on him. He doesn't deserve it."

Minerva let her eyes drop and sniffed while she tried to wipe the tears away. Before she could understand what was happening, Minerva found herself wrapped in Poppy's embrace. It only took a second for her walls to crumble, and she found herself weeping into Poppy's shoulder. Her entire body shook with the violence of her cries and her arms tightened around Poppy's shoulders. "Shh Min. Everything's going to be alright. It's going to be O.K." Poppy rubbed comforting circles along her back. "What am I going to do with the two of you?"

When Minerva finally managed to stem the tears, she gave Poppy a watery smile as she accepted the handkerchief being waved in front of her. "Now, you are going to come with me and have a nice cup of tea Min. I think there are some things you need to hear." The previous arguments seemed forgotten as Poppy led Minerva into her office, quietly shutting the door behind her. This would take awhile.


	9. Chapter 9

Minerva made her way out of the infirmary and into the still empty corridor, but she didn't notice where her feet took her. Thoughts were swirling relentlessly through her mind, each more upsetting then the one before. 'He didn't come back. If it wasn't Albus, than who was it? Who would want to do that?' There was one thought though that kept pounding in her head, no matter how much she tried to push it aside. 'He didn't leave me.'

It had taken Poppy an hour, and several trips into her pensive before Minerva was willing to believe what she was being told. She saw first Albus returning late from his meeting, and she watched as he grilled every member of the staff about her whereabouts. From there they went six months later, and Minerva couldn't hold back the gasp when she first saw him. He was a different man. Dark circles had taken up residence beneath his cold, emotionless eyes. She watched as Albus taught the last Transfiguration lesson for the term, he had taken over her classes, not willing to hire a replacement.

The memories continued, each showing the man she cared for growing older and more distant from everything he cared about. The final memory was one that Poppy, at first, didn't want to share with her, but Minerva had insisted. Minerva watched as Poppy came bursting though his chamber doors to find Albus passed out on his couch. Minerva took in the room that had become his prison, and she couldn't help but notice the sheet number of empty bottles strewn about. Minerva knew she would never forget the sight of Poppy crouched over him with a look bordering on sheer panic written on her face. Minerva hadn't been able to watch anymore, and they returned to the present.

Even with Minerva's vivid memories of the day and their combined efforts, they couldn't come up with a theory as to just what had happened. Nothing made sense, each theory more implausible then the one before. Dejected, Minerva had made her excuses and left, promising to return later that afternoon. It was time to talk to Albus, only now with a slightly different purpose. She still had no idea how she was going to manage, but there was one thing that was certain. Minerva wasn't leaving the castle again until she had his forgiveness. She knew that after everything that had happened, she couldn't dare ask for his love, not after all the time that had passed, but perhaps they could again be on good terms. Perhaps, just perhaps, it could bring back some semblance of the man she remembered, the one with an easy laugh and kind smile.

Minerva continued to walk, watching students laugh and move around her before fading out of existence again. Hundreds of faces and situations played out in her imagination as she moved. The happiest days of her life were lived in these very walls, and that only made her current situation all the more painful. She knew she shouldn't have been surprised when her feet carried her toward her old classroom.

She stood staring at the open door in front of her before quietly moving beside it, listening in on the lesson. She hadn't kept up on appointments within the castle, and so she had no idea who had taken her place. It was unusually quiet inside, there were no student voices or that of the professor. Even the rapid scratching of quills, signaling an exam, was absent. There was only silence before.. "That's it! If you brats can't be bothered to listen, then you can sort yourselves out. I've had enough!"

Minerva stood back, shocked, as a tall, burley man with silver hair and no chin, came barreling out of the classroom, oblivious to her presence. "Bloody brats only taking up space, don't know why I should bother." He continued to mutter to himself. Minerva watched the stranger, her irritation growing. Teaching the children was trying on the worst of days yes, but you just can't leave them on their own. They were only children after all.

"Excuse me," Minerva snapped. For the first time, Professor Travers turned, his sneer gone and replaced with a polite smile. Minerva watched with disgust as his eyes traveled the length of her, coming to rest slightly below her eyes. "I'm up here," she said dryly.

"And who would you be beautiful?"

'Could this man be anymore of an idiot?' she wondered before replying. "My name is Minerva McGonagall. Is there was something wrong with the students?"

" Well Minerva, I'm Jeffery Travers, the Transfiguration professor, and as for those brats, I say leave them as they are. If they can't be bothered to follow basic instructions, then they deserve what they get." He looked rather smug at his deceleration.

Unfortunately for him, he missed the subtle clenching of Minerva's hands. "I see," she managed between clenched teeth. "Well, Mr. Travers, just how do you expect the students to learn if after every mistake, you walk out on them? They are only children; mistakes do happen."

The smug smile had quickly disappeared as Jeffery stared down at the smaller witch, his beady eyes narrowing. "Well, thanks for the lecture miss, but I don't really see how this is any of your concern."

"Oh, I'm making it my concern. I will not stand idly by and watch you abuse the students. I suggest you rethink your teaching strategy before the other professor rethink it for you."

"Well," he said, puffing himself up. "Since I'm so substandard, would you be so kind as to deliver a message to the headmaster?" he sneered, turning and walking up the corridor. "I quit," could be heard reverberating all the way up in the astronomy tower. Minerva wasn't sure they hadn't heard it in the Three Broomsticks.

She stood stock still for a moment outside the classroom. 'I cannot believe it! He actually left; that prat! How could he..That little..' Minerva took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. There was only one thing left to do. With not small amount of trepidation, Minerva took the two steps forward and peered around the corner and into the room. She had never seen such chaos in a single room before.

It looked like the fifth year Gryffindor-Ravenclaw class, but that only added to the surprise. Ravenclaws, at least, shouldn't have had that sort of trouble. Half of the students seemed to be a cross of a barn animal and some sort of furniture, while the other half seemed to be sprouting various garden tools for appendages. They were all simply staring toward the door, not quite believing they had been left alone. The one's who still had their original head looked on the verge of tears. It had always been well known among the staff that Transfiguration was never one of Poppy's strongest suits, and Albus was rather indisposed at the moment, so, with a sigh, Minerva stepped around the corner. It was up to her to straighten everything out, and, for his sake, Minerva hoped that man had enough sense to get out of the castle before she could find him. There would be hell to pay for leaving her cubs in such a state.

"Can anyone tell me what happened here?" She kept her voice stern, but gentle; she didn't want to scare the students anymore then they already were. That would only lead to more trouble. One of the Ravenclaws stepped forward, gesturing with the small hand shovel that was hanging from her arm.

"Professor Travers was trying to show us a transformation, but something went wrong. There was a bright blue light, and when it faded, we all looked like this. Her voice was starting to crack and tears were beginning to prick her eyes. "No one knows how to reverse the transformation, and the professor just left."

'Oh yes, definitely hell,' she thought. "I see, and what's your name?"

"Emily Mickelson," she said, desperately trying to wipe away the tear sliding down her cheek, but she only managed to smack herself in the face with the blunt end of the shovel. Reaching into her robes, Minerva pulled out an oversized handkerchief, the one thing of Albus' she had taken with her, and dabbed the tear away.

"Well Miss Mickelson," she said returning the handkerchief and bringing out her wand. "Why don't we see what we can do about this, shall we?" With a flick of her wand, and a few muttered words, Emily looked down and found her hand again in its rightful place. She looked up in awe at the witch now moving to stand behind her, addressing the entire class. "Well," she said, almost impatiently, "Who's next?"

Within twenty minutes, it was all over. The students were put to rights again as if nothing had ever happened. "Well, now that's settled, I suggest you all return to your common rooms until the start of your next class. It doesn't seem as if your professor will be returning anytime soon." Minerva almost made it to the door before a brave student from the back of the room called out. "What's your name?"

Turning, Minerva looked over the group as if trying to weigh something. "You may call me Professor McGonagall." With that, Minerva stepped out into the corridor and headed back toward the infirmary. Taking the shortest route possible, it only took Minerva a few minutes to find her way back to the infirmary. Without bothering to knock, she flung the door open and came striding into the room. "Poppy, has this place gone insane! You won't believe what just happened in the Transfiguration class. I swear that man was a complete idiot. How he managed to get the post is beyond me, but.."

She never finished her thought as she came around the screens. Sitting up in bed, staring at her with a mix of shock and disbelief was none other than Albus. He had woken up, and she had run out of time. Unable to take her eyes off his, she said the only thing that came to mind. "Hello Albus."


	10. Chapter 10

She waited, watching as he continued to stare at her. After what seemed like an eternity, but what was truly only a few seconds, Minerva took another step forward. "Albus?" The sound of his name seemed to jolt him out of his thoughts as the glazed look left his eyes. Shaking his head, Albus leaned forward in bed and looked at the opening in the screen just behind Minerva's shoulder. "Poppy! I think I you should get in here. Those hallucinations you were telling me about, they've started."

Minerva's eyes grew as he continued to stare at her, a loving expression plain in his expression. "But what an image," he murmured to himself. She remembered that look well, and it still made her stomach flutter. Within seconds, Minerva heard the usual bustle as Poppy swept into the room, a tray of various potions in her hands. Minerva couldn't help but wrinkle up her nose as a particularly vile smelling concoction passed under her nose.

"Ah Minerva, you're back," Poppy said in the way of greeting as she set the tray down next to Albus' bed. "Now Albus, what exactly are you seeing?" Albus didn't say a word; his eyes just darted between the nurse and the woman still standing beside his bed, shifting her weight back and forth on the balls of her feet. She looked every bit the small child who was caught with her fingers in the cookie jar.

"I believe that would be me Poppy," Minerva supplied when no answer was forthcoming. Poppy tried, but failed, to suppress the amused smirk that found its way to her face. "Ah, I see. Well," she said, straightening up and heading back toward the main ward, "I'll leave you two alone for a bit. There are some things to be discussed, no? If either of you need anything, just shout." With that she wandered back into the other room, leaving the couple alone once again.

Silence again reigned over the small space, Albus staring at Minerva was unabashed wonder, and Minerva intent on memorizing the cracks in the flagstones. A dull headache had taken up residence behind his eyes, and his mouth felt as it were full of cotton, but despite the desire to simply ignore everything and sleep, he couldn't help but stare. She was older then he remembered. The silver in her hair caught the bright afternoon light, giving the appearance of a halo, but the dark circles under her eyes made her look sick and frail. She had also lost weight, the always loose robes had become a tent on her small frame. Despite it, she was beautiful. After the initial shock and joy had worn away, the reality of the situation set in, and so did the anger.

He was the first to break the silence. "What are you doing here?"

She visibly flinched at his rough tone. The accusation and hurt was quite evident, but there was also a touch of hope buried underneath it all. That was what she clung on to. "Poppy owled me when you were brought to the infirmary. She said you were hurt badly, so I came." She felt it was best to not mention she had come to tell him off within an inch of whatever life he had left.

"So that's all it took, a near death experience and a letter from the nurse. Perhaps I should have almost died years ago. It could have saved us both some time." The sarcasm dripping from his every word cut a new wound into her already scarred heart, and she struggled to hold back the tears that were threatening to escape. He had every right to be unhappy; in his eyes, she had abandoned him. If they were going to come to any form of understanding, she would have to explain everything, but how do you explain something that you don't understand?

Albus simply watched her. Even after the years of separation, he could still read her perfectly. He didn't miss the sheen of tears in her eyes or the small clenching of her hands as they wrapped around her still trim waist protectively. He had struck a nerve, and despite the small pain this brought him, it also caused the tiniest feeling of triumph to flood his senses. She had gotten a taste of the pain he'd lived with for six long years.

"Don't say things like that Albus," she whispered quietly, "that's not even remotely funny."

"It wasn't meant to be," he replied before clearing his throat and turning to look out the window. "Who were you raving about when you came in?" The light tone and the change of topic was unexpected and threw Minerva off balance. "You transfiguration professor, Travers I believe. He botched an incantation and then left the students to fend for themselves. I was walking by when it happened, and there was a slight altercation. He quit."

Albus grunted before it turned into a cough. "Yes, well, Jeffery was an idiot, but I couldn't find anyone else to fill the position. It took me almost a year to find him. I suppose I'll have to place another add in the paper, hmm?"

Minerva's cheeks reddened at the implication, but she continued to look at him, determined to see this through. "Perhaps not," was all she said, but it certainly caught his attention.

His head snapped back in her direction, fire burning behind his blue eyes, hot and unyielding. "So, that's why you're here. You want your job back, is that it? You think you can just leave, not a word as to why, and then show up six years later and pick it all up again. I'm sorry Minerva, but life doesn't work that way!"

His words had left their mark, and Minerva was seething. In the instant, she was positive she could throttle him with her bare hands. Before she could think it through, the words were already out. "How dare you..you..arrogant, self-pitying..bastard! You think that I would come crawling back to you like some dog just for a job. I have a job; I came back for you! That's right," she screamed as he looked at her shocked. "I was coming to let you know exactly what I thought of you. It's waited six years, but after Poppy's note, it was enough. You had hurt me Albus! The one man I've loved above all else hurt me like no one else could. And what made it worse, you enjoyed it! The supposed champion of goodness in our world, enjoyed my suffering."

Minerva let out a mirthless laugh. "By all that is good in this world, I was going to make you hurt, even if was only the minutest part of my own. So, no Albus, in answer to your question, I did not come back for my job. I came back to finally let you go, hoping the pain would stop. Imagine my surprise then when I arrive."

She began pacing back and forth, her hands waving out in front of her as if swiping at an invisible pest. "I find out that, nooo, it wasn't my husband who ruined my life, it was me! I was fooled, and let someone take everything away. Is that what you want to hear Albus? I ruined it all? Well, I did. In one afternoon, I destroyed everything we had worked for. Everything," she choked out. She reached into her robes and desperately tried to wipe away the tears with his old handkerchief. It was the same one he had spent a week looking for not long after she had left.

Her eyes dried and her voice hoarse, she continued before he could form any response. "It was nothing you did Albus," she said quietly. "Please, don't think it was. The students and staff need you, not the man you've become. Get well soon; I am so sorry."

Albus watched, dumbstruck as, for the second time, his wife turned and walked out of his life. His head was pounding, his limbs throbbed, but Albus swung his legs over the edge of the bed, fighting the wave of nausea that washed over him. "Poppy, I need my pants, now!" he yelled, reaching for his spectacles.


	11. Chapter 11

Albus crashed through he infirmary door, still trying to button his pants. The flagstones were cold and unforgiving under his bare feet, and the chill they produced traveled up his spine. His eyes were wide as he frantically scanned the empty corridor, trying to decide which direction she could have gone. Even the short distance to the door had drained him of much of his energy as he leaned heavily against the cold stones. The pounding in his head had returned in full force, and his chest was heaving painfully in an effort to supply the much needed oxygen. "Minerva," he called out, but there was no reply. Shaking off the sudden wave of dizziness, Albus lurched off the wall and began stumbling in the direction of the stairs.

She would try to get away, but he wouldn't let it happen, not again. There were some days, well most days really, that Albus just didn't understand women. She disappears, comes back, crying, and then runs out again. He just couldn't get it. Did she want to come back, or was she simply looking to see if he had kicked the bucket? It didn't make any sense. He easily read the pain and confusion in her eyes. There was something he was missing, and it was driving him insane.

Albus stepped off the stairway and into another corridor just as the bells overhead rang, ending the last class of the day. Students began bursting out of the various doors, but came to a standstill as they saw their headmaster making his way toward them. News had spread quickly of the headmaster's stay in the hospital wing, although no one quite knew why, but no one could believe what they saw. After all, how often is it that the headmaster all but runs through the corridors in nothing but a pair of trousers. "Out of the way!" he yelled, and ran on as the students hurried to clear a path.

Albus was only vaguely aware as he ran past a group of seventh year girls. "Did you see those abs," one whispered, "I didn't know that was possible at his age." Professor Flitwick managed to push his way though the students and nearly fell over as Albus passed by. "Albus, what on.." "She's back Filius," Albus called over his shoulder, never losing stride.

By the time Albus reached the transfiguration wing, he could feel himself slowing down. His head felt as if it were about to split in half, and his stomach was rolling despite his best efforts. Putting out a hand, he continued, leaning on the wall for support. The thrum of magic that filled the castle seemed to calm him somewhat, just a it always had. "I swear woman, when I get my hands on you," he grumbled, turning the corner.

He didn't get a step further before crashing into something warm and solid. Reacting on instinct, he rolled his body, bringing the other on top of him before they hit the ground. They landed with a thud as the wind was knocked out of his lungs and stars began to shine in his eyes. When he managed to get back to the hospital wing, Poppy was not going to be happy.

When his vision finally cleared, he gazed directly up into a pair of emerald eyes. Their faces were only millimeters apart, and Albus' arms were wrapped protectively around her waist, holding her flush against his body. He could feel her body heat as it seeped through her robes and warmed his chest. Her soft breath against his neck and the smell of her drove him to distraction. The air around them seemed to thicken instantly, and neither dared to say a word. It wasn't until Albus shivered that Minerva broke the moment and hastily got to her feet.

She reached down and helped him stand up. "Albus are you alright?" she asked looking him over. She had immediately noticed his lack of clothing, and couldn't help but see he hadn't changed much since she had seen him last. He was, perhaps, a little paler and leaner through the middle, but looked as strong as ever.

"I'm fine, just give me a minute to catch my breath."

She just stared at him before realization dawned. "Albus, what are you doing out of bed? Better yet, what are you doing out of bed, with nothing on?"

"I managed to grab my pants," he quipped before growing serious again. "You didn't expect me to just let you leave like that did you? The better question is, why are you standing outside the abandoned storage room?" His words were steady, but his entire body was shaking, and a light sheen of sweat had broken out along his hairline.

She stepped forward, putting a hand on his arm, feeling the familiar spark as they touched. "Comeback to the hospital wing Albus. I'll tell you when you're settled."

"No," he said vehemently, pulling his arm away. "Tell me now!"

Minerva huffed. Sometimes he acted too much like the students for his own good. "Fine, but at least," she waved wand and her cloak had grown in size and she wrapped it around his shoulders. "The last thing I need is for Poppy to have both our heads." She looked back to the wooden door that seemed to be taunting her. "I was remembering."

The comment caught Albus by surprise, but he tried not to show it. "Remembering?"

"Umm," she responded, "This is where it started." He was even more confused at this point, but she didn't seem to notice. Her mind was drifting back to another time. "I was going to use this room for my afternoon classes. Peeves had made a mess in mine. When I came though the door, you were there, or someone I thought was you," she added quickly when he began to open his mouth. "In the span of ten minutes, you told me about, not only, your other woman, but that she was coming to the school. Of course I said I wouldn't allow it, and was promptly told to vacate the premises. You know the rest," she trailed off.

She turned away from him, desperately trying to hide the pain. It felt like an eternity as she waited for him to say something, anything. And, with each passing second, her heart broke just that much more.

Albus' mind was reeling with this new information. Things were beginning to add up, but certainly she wouldn't have gotten so worked up over something so trivial. "Minerva, why would you use this room? Were you planning a joint lesson with the D.A. class that term?"

It was Minerva's turn to be confused. "Of course not. This was just the nearest empty classroom. Why? What difference does it make?"

It finally dawned on him as the last piece of the puzzle slid into place. She didn't know. How could she not know? Everyone knew, or he thought they did. The sheer stupidity of the situation crashed down around him, and Albus did the only thing he could think of. He laughed for the first time in six years, and it felt wonderful.

This was not the reaction that Minerva had expected, and she could feel her anger rising. How could he laugh at her, at what she had gone through? Maybe she hadn't been wrong after all. "And what, headmaster, is so funny?"

The look of outrage on her face and her tone only made him laugh harder. "The boggart Minerva," He gasped out. "The room..has been empty..for 130 years..because of a boggart! No one has been able to get rid of the blasted thing. You walked in on a boggart!"

She watched in horror as Albus tried to regain control of his breathing, but, by the blue tinge that was starting to cover his lips, she knew he wasn't succeeding. The laughter had done it.

"Albus," Minerva cried as he collapsed in a heap at her feet. "Just a boggart," he whispered before falling unconscious again.


	12. Chapter 12

Minerva finally allowed her shoulders to slump while she watched the now steady rise and fall of his chest from beneath the blankets. When he collapsed she panicked. Levitating him, she all but ran through the halls, and it was only by some miracle that she arrived back in the hospital wing before his heart stopped. The strain on him had been too much for his weary body to handle, and it had simply shut down.

It took Poppy hours and a near collapse of her own before he was again stable. She had taken up vigil beside him as soon as Poppy had stepped away, and no amount of pleading, and then threatening, had been able to move her. It had been another three hours, the sun had long ago set, and on several occasions Minerva could hear Poppy shooing away people as they tried to enter. Her mind genuinely didn't register the intrusion.

She wondered when things had gotten so dreadfully complicated. A boggart; she almost laughed at the sheer stupidity of the moment. At least now she could understand Albus' reaction. She, reportedly one of the greatest witches of the century, was taken in and decimated by a simple boggart. But, it just made no sense. A boggart couldn't be bound to a single location, could it? And why, in the name of that is sane in this world, had she never heard of it? She had lived the entirety of her adult life, and a major portion of her childhood within the confines of the castle, so how could she, when everyone else knew, have missed it?

No matter the reason, she and Albus would need to have a serious talk about what would come next. 'Just not now,' she thought as she watched him sleep. Since their arrival back in the Hospital Wing, she had not allowed herself to touch him, but the urge was overwhelming. She needed that contact that reassured her of his continued existence. Her hands slid around his much larger one, and the tiny hairs along her neck stood on end at the sensation. His hand was hot and clammy, and it seemed to lack subtle strength that she always remembered. Idly, her thumb began to trace patterns along his palm. There would be time to talk later, but for now, as her eyelids began to droop, she needed rest almost as much as he did.

This was how Poppy found them half an hour later. Albus was still sound asleep, but now, so was Minerva. She still had his hand encased within her own, and her head rose and fell from its place on her chest. Her tense posture showed just how uncomfortable the position was for her. So, without any thought to the feelings of the two, or regard her own personal safety, Poppy waved her wand.

The once single bed was now a double, and it only took the span of a breath before Minerva sighed and rolled toward the never forgotten warmth. Albus' sleep became more restful as his arms slowly wound around her waist, pulling her closer. Her head came to rest against his rising pajama clad chest, and his burrowed into her hair. There were just some things that time couldn't interfere with. Shaking her head at the whole situation and muttering something that sounded remarkably like "thick as bricks," she turned on her heel and headed to bed herself. Tomorrow would be a long day.

The sun rose hesitantly the next day, almost aware of what its arrival would mean. Albus sighed and curled farther around the soft warmth in his arms. He couldn't remember the last time he had slept so soundly or woken utterly content despite the dull ache that seemed to penetrate everything. Even in his half woken state, it felt as if he had been hit by a stampede of angry Hippogriffs. It wasn't until he caught a whiff from her hair that everything from the day before came crashing down around him.

His aqua eyes snapped open, but he was careful not to move as he took in his surroundings. He was back in the Hospital Wing, and dread swiftly took hold of him. 'I'm a dead man,' was the only thought running through his mind. 'But what a way to go,' was the next as he looked down at the woman who had pillowed her head on his beard, just as she had always done. A gentle smile tugged at her lips, and he wondered if his presence was what put it there. It had been so many years, it was almost impossible to be sure.

The whole debacle that had become his life still amazed him. She had walked in on the boggart, and he had lost his wife. 'Well, maybe only misplaced,' he hoped. That boggart had caused him more trouble through the years than he would like to admit, but the fact she had apparently been unaware of its existence was astounding. He had never mentioned it during their long years together, partially due to embarrassment, but mostly because it was common knowledge. It was just something that everyone found out about, and explanation had become unnecessary though the years.

He closed his eyes and the image of her horrified face flashed across them. But, what hurt most was the boggart itself. It is often said that humans fear the unknown, the unexplained. While that is certainly true, people seem to be more afraid of what they believe to be possible, even in the remotest of chances. It's that nagging 'what if' that truly terrifies a person. It's almost impossible to be afraid that which cannot happen.

She had actually thought he was capable of deceiving and then abandoning her. They had been married for so long, yet it seemed to him as if perhaps, she didn't know him at all. Even now she was everything to him. He was willing to give up everything and anything for just the slimmest chance of a smile. He was willing to suffer anything for just the smallest of laughs. And, despite this, she thought he would leave her. The fact that she had come back, for whatever reason, gave him a glimmer of hope, but if they had any chance, they would need to talk.

Time seemed to work against him however, when he felt her delicate hands flex on his chest, gathering a fistful of nightshirt and beard between her fingers. He turned his head slowly and looked down at her, simply content to watch her awaken. He had always loved it, the groggy, glazed look of her eyes, and the way her hair mussed. He was not disappointed that morning either. Minerva stretched and flexed in bed before burrowing deeper into Albus' arms. It was a wonderful dream, and she wasn't ready to leave it yet, despite what the real world wanted. Licking her lips, trying to dispel the fuzz that had taken up residence in her mouth, Minerva slowly opened her eyes, and stared.

Albus could feel her tense almost immediately, but despite her attempts to pull away, kept his grip as tight as possible. Every intention of talking fled from his mind. "Albus don't," she whispered.

"Why not?" He asked just as quietly. She wanted to skate around the issue, but he was tired of running from his demons.

"We..I..it just.." She fought with herself, trying to find a way to explain what she felt. They needed to talk, but his closeness clouded her mind, making rational thought impossible, and he knew it. It had always been that way, and he was using it to his advantage. Severus would be so proud.

Albus reached out and tucked a stray hair behind her ear, letting his finger trail down her jaw line. "How could you think it Tabby? How could you ever doubt how much I love you?"

Minerva shivered and tried once again in vain to pull away. "I don't know Albus. How do you expect me to explain it to you when I don't understand it myself? I only know that I walked into a room, and something I thought was you didn't love me anymore." She had lifted her head, but was unusually interested in the speck of dust floating just over his shoulder. "I don't understand how it could have happened. I had never heard of the boggart, and how on earth did it get stuck? Boggart's can't become attached to a place; it's just not possible."

It was Albus' turn to be uncomfortable, and in his retreat, Minerva was able to pull back slightly. Propping up on an elbow, she was surprised at the surge of amusement she felt at his predicament.

"I'm afraid that was my fault," he finally admitted. "That was the classroom in use during my time as a student. We were working in class when.." his cheeks grew redder with every second of silence. Minerva raised an eyebrow and simply waited. "Well, a classmate of mine was having some difficulty, and I agreed to help. She was rather appreciative when she received full marks on the homework and gave me a peck on the cheek in way of a thank you. I um..had a bit of a power surge. There was a boggart in the professor's desk at the time, and by the time the flash had diminished, it was stuck. It seemed as if the desk was also stuck, so we were forced to move next door for lessons, and I spent the next few years known as kissing curser."

Laughter danced in her eyes even though she was able to hold it back. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

He looked as if the very thought would cause him to break down in tears. "It was rather embarrassing Minerva, and everyone always finds out about the Boggart, so I never saw a point."

"Well, almost everyone. What do we do now Albus?" He opened his mouth, but the words died on his lips at the sound of rustling robes and a loudly cleared throat.

Albus' hand snapped back as if burned, and Minerva reflexively brought the blanket up farther around her frame, despite the set of robes she still wore. Knowing what they would find, both dreading it, but one fearing for his life, they turned. They both looked up at the school nurse, who was smirking at them, but she also had a murderous glint that was determined to break free. "And how are we feeling this morning?" Both nodded their heads and muttered a soft "fine" before blue eyes dropped and emerald turned toward him.

"Well, that wonderful to hear. After all of yesterday's excitement, I would have thought someone would have been flat on his back. Oh," she said in mock surprise, "look at that. You are! Maybe next time, instead of playing stun the nurse and run, you'll actually listen to what I tell you. Because, make no mistake, if you ever pull something like that on me again Albus Dumbledore, it won't be pretty. I do have a through knowledge of muggle healing techniques. Do I make myself clear?" Albus only nodded his head, looking like a petulant child.

"I can't believe you stunned her Albus," Minerva hissed through her teeth. "It took me almost five minutes to get her up again."

"She wouldn't give me my pants!" he whispered back in his own defense.

"And now we know why! Do you have any idea.."

This time it was Minerva who was interrupted by new arrivals. The hospital wing door swung open and half of the teaching staff barreled into the room, the group being led by the now deputy headmaster, Flitwick. "Don't any of you people listen!" Poppy yelled at the approaching figures. "I told you to come back later."

She was completely ignored. "So it's true; you're back." Minerva had sat up as they approached, and soon found herself with an armful of Charms professor. "Thank heavens! Do you have any idea just how much we've missed you? It's been a nightmare!" As abruptly as the hug had begun, it was over. Instead, she found herself being rather forcibly shaken. "Do you know what kind of an ogre he's been! How we've kept from killing him is beyond me. I've been doing paperwork for six years Minerva; six years! What were you thinking woman!"

"Filius, would you stop shaking my wife? I believe that's my job." He looked over the head of the shorter man at the other staff. Most had looks of shock on their face, while some looked more confused then ever. "We will answer your questions, but first," he turned back to Minerva and grabbed her hands between his own. "If I'm not mistaken, I'm in need of a transfiguration professor, and I think Filius is about to murder me in my sleep if I let him. I don't suppose you would be interested, would you? The position does come with a quiet dinner for two in London on Saturday; a sort of fresh start if you will. What do you say Minerva?"

She had dreamed of this moment a thousand times, and knew the answer long before she said it, but there was someone else to consider. "Filius," she said questioningly.

"I don't know what's going on with the two of you, but if your willing to deal with those damn governors, it's all yours. And Albus, if you ever do this to me again, I'll hex you into next week."

"What about us Albus?" "He let his fingers stroke along her cheek again, enthraled as she leaned into the touch. "We start again, and live life to the fullest." That was all she needed to hear.

"Well, when do I start?" He smiled up at her, and placed a loving kiss on the back of her hand.

"How about now?"

The End.


End file.
